


Stolen Sweet

by MyDearStalker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Captive, F/M, Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, blowjob, kidnap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyDearStalker/pseuds/MyDearStalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has Miriam in the basement. He does not treat her well.</p><p>TW: Non con and kidnap/captivity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> *I just want to acknowledge how awful the reality of this is, and that reality isn't what I'm concerned with here, just fantasy. This may be triggering (warnings applied), so take that into account.

He wishes she wouldn't insist she was unbreakable. He doesn't want to break her, quite the opposite, she's no good to him broken. While Miriam takes advantage of his hospitality, she _will_ be of use to him. And besides, it's not true. She isn't.

He takes her on the second night. It's not his original intent. But the rain is pouring against the window and he's fed well, drunk well, with entertaining company. The dinner has ended, and the house was feeling empty. He feels empty. 

Miriam burns in his basement like a stolen sweet in a pocket. He toys with his glass in the light of the fire before coming to a decision. 

He opens the door with purpose, closes it behind him delicately. Taking his time, he takes his jacket off, and settles it over a chair. He rolls his shirt up at the sleeves. He can smell fear in the air, and anger. He meets Miriam's eyes with his own, dispassionately, before loosening her gag and bonds.  Her muscles tense, and he isn't surprised when she launches herself at him, arms and legs wild but weak from the hours spent in an awkward position. He catches her by the throat, no longer coy, and squeezes with a downward pressure until she's on her knees, gasping. Then he releases her, and steps away, regarding her with a tilted head as she wheezes and splutters.

'There is no release from this, Miriam.' she swings at him wildly from the floor, and he dodges artfully. 'You'll tire yourself out, and the darkness will become even more oppressive. And I know how you hate the dark.' She's crying now, quiet sobs, and he reaches down to stroke her hair, not without compassion. 

Miriam grabs his arm with both hands and sinks her teeth in, making Hannibal gasp. Quickly, he twists her arm behind her back and forces her to rise, shoving her hard against the wall. His nose dips down behind her ear, and he inhales her fury gently, the scent mixed with her sweat, traces of perfume and meals long past consumed. She's rigid as he unzips her uniform, pulling down till she's naked at the waist. She struggles back into him, and he tightens the pressure on her arm until she cries out in pain, pushing past that point even then, until he can smell the fear on her -- the fear of her body breaking with nothing to comfort or heal it, the fear of losing her arm, the only weapon with which she has left to fight. 

He whispers in her ear. 'Be still.'

His hand cups the smooth roundness of her cheek, and he pulls her apart, her body making a wet sound as he spreads her. She doesn't want him, he doesn't delude himself, and he doesn't care. He wants her, wants her fear and submission, and he thinks only of his own pleasure as he dives his fingers between her folds. He strokes her gently, and she thrashes, but he's patient. When his fingers circle her clit, she jolts, and it makes him smile a little. 

He wants her to feel her body betray her, wants her to realise how easily she can be controlled, how fragile she is next to him. His touch is clever, and when his fingers enter her, she cries out loud. He thrusts viciously, making her pant, her hips moving of their own accord. When he removes them, she groans like an animal, frustrated at herself, not him. He kisses the top of her ear, mocking her. 

'Bodies are such weak instruments.' he says, pressing the whole of his torso against her back. 'They have their own set of rules, independent perhaps, to our will. Yours responds to mine readily enough.' 

He dips swiftly to gather a thread of the recently untied rope, and loops it around her neck, dragging her backwards, knocking her off balance. He turns her around like a puppet on a string as she scrambles. He holds her close to his face as her cheeks redden, and looks into her eyes, consciousness leaving her, pushing her roughly back to fall on the floor before she faints. Her eyes are closed as she draws in ragged breaths, and he lifts her to her knees by her hair. With his free hand he loosens his cock, and pushes it into her gasping, open mouth before she can recover. 

He holds her still, her eyes wide, and looks down on her. He stays like that for a while, feeling her mouth moisten around him, taking in her concentration, waiting for her to adjust, in no hurry. When her mouth is wet and she seems calm, he begins to thrust, hand on the back of her head. She's biddable enough, her tongue a soft bed, and his thrusts become wilder. The back of her throat closes around him, gagging, but he persists, feeling her froth and drool. Her hands claw at him for purchase and her eyes narrow. Her desperation spurs him on. He thinks of her bound to his table, open for him, he thinks of her wet around his fingers, how he will force her to take him and later, force her to be glad of it, nothing on her body sacred or unused. He comes in long spurts, holding her mouth wrapped deeply around him, staying in her until she swallows. When he retreats, she falls to her hands, head bowed, gasping. 

'Your clothes, please.' he tidies himself, and watches her petulantly remove her windbreaker, her shirt, her bra, without meeting his gaze. He holds out his hand, and she gives him the pile. 

He takes in her naked form. Before turning out the light behind him, much to her horror, he briefly sees a flash of all the scars she will bear, the missing pieces, the blood and tortures. He hears her cry. 

He has so much to look forward to. 


End file.
